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Hope is a weapon in the arms of those
Who can instill it in the low and weak, And turn their sparkle to a humble pose Until their consciousness will follow, bleak... And if you tap yourself into one’s fears To play them like some gentle strings, You must show neither love, nor tears, And give in to the sins of kings. The parasites of light, The parasites of darkness, The parasites of everything that was, Pervading minds, Exploiting every weakness, Turning sound thoughts Against their inner laws! And if you tap yourself into one’s fears To play them like some gentle strings, You must show neither love, nor tears, And give in to the sins of kings. They cultivate the life, and so it grows Apart from everything that strikes as meek Like hope, the weapon in the arms of those Who can instill it in the low and weak!
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